


Eat Shit

by buckybarnesthehotshot



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: F/M, Ransom Drysdale - Freeform, Ransom Drysdale Fanfiction, ransom drysdale x reader - Freeform, ransom drysdale x y/n, ransom drysdale x you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29434026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybarnesthehotshot/pseuds/buckybarnesthehotshot
Summary: How Ransom first encountered the term “eat shit”
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale & Reader, Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Kudos: 17





	Eat Shit

It wasn’t uncommon for the sweater-wearing spoiled son of Linda and Richard Drysdale to find himself in a bar, watching his surroundings with one cold glass of whiskey in his hands. Ransom didn’t know what it was about bars, but he always found himself wanting to spend most of his time in one, barely even getting buzzed from the drinks.

He found himself lost in his own thoughts before he was snapped out of his daze by a nearby sound of arguing, destroying his peaceful night sitting on a barstool, scrolling mindlessly through his phone, and reading the texts from his mother he refused to respond to.

“Eat shit,” a voice snapped from behind the counter. Ransom, being one who loved watching the drama unfold, snapped his head around to see what the commotion was about.

There, he saw her; a h/c-haired bartender, her beautiful e/c eyes burning holes into a middle-aged bald drunk man being held back by his friends as he struggled to break free from their grip.

“Come on, bitch! If you want to keep fucking up at your stupid job, be my fucking guest! Just don’t fucking try covering up your fucking mistake!” the man growled as he tugged against his friends’ grips as he wanted to pounce on the unfazed bartender.

“I know what I’m doing here, dipshit. It’s my job to know. If you don’t seem to think that, you can go pay your bill, leave, and eat shit,” the bartender growled, slamming her fist against the bar counter, emphasizing her last to words as she spat them with as much venom as she could.

“First of all, I know I’m right! It’s the basic fucking rule of service; the customer is always right,” the man insisted, finally breaking loose from his friends’ hold and pounding his fist against the wooden counter like a drunk toddler.

“That rule is bullshit. Here in my bar, it doesn’t fucking exist. My customers are predominantly men, all drunk of their asses, who clearly don’t think shit through before doing anything! You asked for your goddamn bill, and you and your little drinking buddies over here ordered twelve bottles of six-dollar beers, and it fucking shows, drunkass. If you have a problem with that, eat shit,” the woman smirked, running her fingers through her h/c hair, proud of herself for telling the man off.

“Yeah, but—” the man started, only to be cut off by Ransom inserting himself into the situation, standing between the drunk man and the bar counter.

“I think the last told you to go eat shit. Get your drunk ass out of my sight, or at least just shut the fuck up and pay your goddamn bill! I’m trying to enjoy my night and I can’t do that with you running your pathetic trap,” the strong-jawed man growled, an annoyed look on his face as he glared the drunk man down.

“Are you fucking ser—” the man started, only to be cut off by both Ransom and the woman.

“Eat shit,” both Ransom and the bartender growled at the man in unison. The man grumbled, muttering a few swears directed at Ransom and the woman, before walking away with his friends following after him. Ransom turned to face the bartender, who let out an annoyed groan.

“What? Are you expecting a free drink or something for that oh-so-selfless act of heroism?” She arched a brow at him expectantly as he chuckled slowly.

“Well, a thank you would’ve been nice,” Ransom scoffed, slightly taken aback by the way the bartender talked to him as he wasn’t used to receiving that type of treatment from women. Especially those he found attractive.

“Thank you? That man over there owed me money and you let him—” she scolded him as he cut her off by slamming his credit card onto the wooden counter, raising his brows at her once before giving a proud smirk.

“Put it on my tab, sweetheart,” he smirked smugly at her as she rolled her eyes at the nickname.

“Okay, cool. Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to order anything else?” she raised a brow at him, not missing the way his bright blue pools scanned her over.

“Can you blame me? I’ve got a hell of a view,” Ransom winked as she rolled her eyes in disgust, charging the previous man’s drinks to the tall man’s credit card.

“Do you flirt with every bartender you come across? I’m sure that definitely hasn’t gotten you kicked out any bars,” she rolled her eyes, handing him back the black card.

“Just the pretty ones,” he smirked.

“Eat shit,” she chuckled, her cheeks warming up ever so slightly as she scoffed.

“Can I at least get a name? That or I might start getting used to calling you sweetheart, sweetheart,” Ransom winked, y/n chuckling in response.

“y/n. In case you couldn’t tell by the sign outside my bar,” she rolled her eyes as Ransom smiled, pleased at her response.

“Well, it’s nice to meet someone with such a pretty name. The name’s Ransom. Ransom Drysdale. You probably heard of me because of my family’s immense success. I could get you anything and everything you want,” he boasted, hoping it would be something the girl would find interest in.

“Anything else? My shift’s about to end and I still need to close up the bar,” y/n crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring Ransom’s statement as he shrugged as coolly as he could

“Go out with me?” he questioned her, his signature smirk finding its way to his face as y/n chuckled at his confidence to ask her out, but she knew better than to agree to his question. She’d dealt with men like him daily and he was no different; he would take her out to a fancy dinner, try to get her drunk, and try to find their way into her pants.

She’d seen it happen in her bar multiple times; men trying to take advantage of women. She always made it a point to insert herself in a situation to check the sobriety of the women the men were chatting up.

“Eat shit,” she grinned before walking into the back room, leaving Ransom alone with a glass of whiskey and his thoughts of the beautiful bartender with the pretty e/c eyes.


End file.
